The File · Part 1

The File · Part 1 (1/2)
Next

The scene was a comfortable apartment on the first floor of a unit block in the inner city. The unit’s lounge room faced west and in the past had a reasonable view of the city’s inner western suburbs. But during the last year a convention centre had been built across the street below just thirty metres away. The lounge now faced directly into a large picture window of a big conference room containing a single long table. This was regularly used. Immaculately suited men and women sat facing each other across the table and were clearly engrossed in what they had to say to each other. None of them looked out the window at the residence across the way.

The owner of the apartment wondered what they talked about that was so important.

This was Nancy, a single woman only recently turned forty. She was somewhat tall, slim and quite fit. Her face was smooth, oval shaped and framed by dark brown hair. She was a teacher by occupation. There had been a short, very unhappy marriage about ten years earlier in her life, now thankfully terminated. Despite this, Nancy still desired and looked for male company.

Today she was wearing a full brown skirt and a white, long sleeved blouse as she gazed out her lounge window into that of the convention centre over the street.

The big room was obviously going to be used for something important today. Staff were busily arranging carafes, glasses, note-pads and even small calculators on the surface of the table. Nancy wondered what was going to happen but soon turned away. There was some correspondence to attend to at the writing desk in her bedroom. She was turning to do this when her doorbell sounded. She went to the front door.

On opening it she found a man and a woman waiting. Nancy did not know either of them. The man looked about her age, was thin and athletic looking. He wore a zipped up jacket and grey jeans. The woman seemed younger, also had a slim figure and wore an old fashioned green belted raincoat buttoned up to the throat. She carried a shopping bag slung over one shoulder. Both wore hats, in each case pulled down in front, which had the effect of obscuring their faces. And both wore dark glasses. The householder puzzled at this. It was a bleak cold day outside, certainly not glaring sunlight.

“Yes,” she began, wondering who her callers were, “Can I help you?”

“You can indeed, Nancy,” said the woman, "You can start by letting us come in.” And with that they forced their way inside.

The woman pushed Nancy several feet back into her own lounge room. The man deftly closed and locked the front door behind them and then moved into the room until he was behind the astonished householder.

“What!” expostulated Nancy, “What do you think you’re doing? And what…” At that moment the man, now standing behind her, pinioned her arms, the woman clamped a gloved hand over her mouth, effectively silencing her. Both were wearing soft black gloves.

"Hush Nancy,” the woman spoke quietly, “We’re going to make use of your home for a while. And unfortunately it’ll be necessary to tie you up. But that needn’t be unpleasant, if you’re sensible. We’re both skilled at this so there’s no use fighting us. So why don’t you be a clever girl and let us get on with what we have to do?”

Nancy could feel the strength in the man’s arms as he held her and she knew was no match for a pair of professional criminals, as she took these two to be. “So nod your head if you’re ready to submit,” the woman went on. Difficult though it was with a strong hand over her mouth, she nodded.

“Well then,” smiled the woman, taking her hand from Nancy’s mouth. “I’ll tie up our little friend here,” she said to the man, “You go and check out this lovely apartment of hers.” And with that she steered the homeowner to a part of the room where she could not be seen through the window. Unslinging her shopping bag she put it on the nearby lounge and took out several lengths of prepared sheeting strips and began to bind the victim, her raincoat rustling as she did so.

First she crossed her wrists behind her back, wound a thick strip tightly around them and secured it with two firm knots. Next she bound her upper arms firmly around her body with a longer piece which she tightened with a cinch under each armpit. Finally, she secured her captive’s forearms to her waist with another long piece. Nancy was beginning to look like a well wrapped package. The woman bound with some care and even attempted a certain amount of artistic neatness with her knots. Her captive reflected that even though she could hardly move a muscle in her arms she was reasonably comfortable.

Meanwhile, the man had come back. “All correct,” he reported, and to Nancy, “You keep a neat and tidy household.” She frowned at him. It may have been a compliment but after all she was being bound and would presumably be gagged in what she took to be a home invasion and robbery.

The woman indicated that she should sit down on the nearby lounge. “So I can tie your pretty legs dear,” she explained.

Nancy still felt she was the victim of a simple burglary. “Perhaps you’ve made a mistake?” she began, “Maybe come to the wrong place? There isn’t much money in the apartment and I don’t have any expensive jewellery.”

The woman smiled. “I wouldn’t be interested in your jewellery if you had any. We don’t want any of your property and we’re certainly not going to ransack your home. Nothing so crude as that.”

The woman finished tying her ankles and then bound her thighs above the knees. She stood up. Meanwhile the man was getting worried. “They should be here by now,” he said. And, as if to answer him three short knocks came at the front door. He hurried to open it.

Two women stood there. They were both in their mid thirties and wore identical grey boiler suits had matching caps which they wore pulled down low over their faces. They looked like contract cleaners. Like their colleagues already in the apartment they wore dark glasses and each carried an equipment case.

The hurried inside quickly, walked to within ten feet of the lounge window and looked towards it and at the the view of the conference room beyond. “Perfect,” said one of them.

“Perfect indeed,” said the other. Then she turned, looked at Nancy, now bound hand and foot and seated on her own lounge and said to the raincoated woman, “She can’t stay here. She’ll see everything we do. Take her into the bedroom, gag her, put her into a wardrobe and make her lie down.”

The woman stood beside the bound Nancy. “I’ll look after her in the bedroom,” she said, “You do what you have to do here. You won’t need me.” And with that she knelt and began to untie Nancy’s legs. The other nodded and the two newcomers quickly began to unpack their cases.

With her legs untied, Nancy was now mobile. The woman lifted her her feet, steered her firmly into the bedroom and carefully shut the door behind them.

Once inside, her captor relaxed. She seated Nancy on the middle of the bed began to re-tie her ankles and thighs. “I’ll make you as comfortable as possible,” she smiled. She even removed her shoes and pulled a small lambswool rug up underneath her bound feet. And, as if to explain the earlier exchange in the lounge, she went on, “We can forget about gagging you and making you lie down in a locked wardrobe. Those people out there are technicians, they rarely have anything to do with people. They don’t know how to handle them.” She a prepared, wadded gag out of the shopping bag which she had brought in with her and placed it on the bedspread beside the bound householder. “We’ll keep this here for use if necessary."

“They’re technicians?” Nancy was bemused. “And you say you aren’t going to take any of my things? Then why have you come here?”

The woman stood up, thrust with hands into her raincoat pockets, walked a few steps around the room, then sat down on the bed beside Nancy. The waterproof rustled as she did so.

She explained, “We don’t want anything from you. It’s the use of your apartment for a couple of hours that we need.” She elaborated. “There’s going to be a very important meeting held in the convention centre across the way this morning. The information discussed, knowledge of decisions made will be worth millions, not only in this country, but internationally. And a certain organisation wants to know about it.” She went on. “The room has been bugged by a very sophisticated recording, transmitting device. But the signals can only be picked up within a radius of fifty metres. And certain people want photographic evidence of who was at the gathering itself. This could be obtained by a very advanced telescopic camera through the window of a conveniently placed adjoining building. Such as yours.”

The woman looked carefully at Nancy. “And so perhaps you see why it’s very necessary to occupy your home for a couple of hours this morning. And though this may be a home invasion there won’t be any damage done to your apartment. Maybe some of your lounge furniture moved slightly.”

Nancy took all of this in. Finally she said, “And while all this is going on I’m to be tied up, possibly gagged and held captive as if this was a break-in and a robbery?”

“Only you won’t be robbed, and if you’re sensible you won’t harmed at all.” The woman’s face became serious. “I might point out to you there is a very important organisation and some very powerful people are involved here. Get on the wrong side of them, such as by giving a too detailed description as to what happened here today and you’ll simply disappear as if you’d never existed. I hope I make myself clear.”

Nancy was beginning to see this quite clearly. She reflected on her situation. So far she had been overpowered, bound hand and foot and held captive. And was likely to be held so for some time. But in truth she had not been harmed. She decided to try and establish some sort of rapport with this woman who seemed not only approachable but even friendly.

The two women continued to sit side by side on the bed. Nancy, securely tied up, her arms bound behind her and with a prepared gag between them. The woman looked around the bedroom which was quite simply furnished. In one corner was small desk on which lay a single brown manilla folder. She looked at this thoughtfully for a while and then, turning the companion at her side, said. “Well Nancy, you and I are going to be together in each other’s company for an hour or two yet. We can have a little intimate girl talk.” Nancy looked at her.

She looked around and went on. “This is a nice apartment. And you’ve been here about ten years now haven’t you? Ever since your marriage broke up? It didn’t last very long, did it?” Nancy gaped. How did she know all this?

Her seated captor continued, “And you’re a teacher.” She smiled, “Long ago I wanted to be a teacher but got into other things instead. There are still times when I wish I had been one.” She laughed, “But I don’t suppose I’d have made as much money. The organisation pays very well.” Nancy was already impressed by the amount of information this organisation of hers had found out about herself. It was obviously very efficient. And international rather than national, she'd said? She wondered what it represented.

Meanwhile, the woman was still digressing about Nancy’s personal situation. “And you're teaching at the local Burbank Primary. Quite highly rated there it seems. But what about your personal life? Relationships with the opposite sex? Somewhat limited I would think? And yet,” she smiled,”You want a companion, don’t you?" Nancy bristled at this. What business was it of hers? At the same time a small voice whispered in the back of her mind it was only too true. Her social life was virtually non existent.

The woman’s gaze continued to rove around the room. It finally settled again on the desk and the single manilla file it held. “What’s that?” she demanded.

Nancy would rather that question had never been asked. For some years now she had been corresponding with the lonely hearts columns of local and even state wide newspapers. With practically no success whatsoever. That brown manilla file, about eight centimetres thick by now, contained all of the paperwork this had generated. The woman asked again, “That file. What is it?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled. “Some personal stuff, nothing important.” The woman turned sideways with a look of disbelief, then got up from the bed, her raincoat whispering softly. She walked over to the desk.

“It’s just a personal file,” called Nancy anxiously. The woman stopped, turned and faced her.

“You’ve been using the personal columns in the local papers, haven’t you?” Her powers of perception were amazing. “And that file is the end result, isn’t it?” Nancy was dumbfounded. She said nothing. “Well, I’m not nosey enough to look through the lot of it. I daresay most of it’s very sad reading indeed. But to get an idea, I

The File · Part 1 (1/2)
Next